you're so sly.

the joys of being an adolescent.

i love the book looking for alaska. famous last words. it's beautiful and i like it.

i don't really have much to say, except that i miss my phone. and anja.

do you know fuck i forgot what i was going to say. oh, i remember now, do you know what works? it works, when you're uncomfortable, to make the people making you uncomfortable more uncomfortable than you are. when you out-uncomfort your uncomforters.

i think i'm going to go shower, and watch movies until i have to go to school, because the dreams have now become nightmares.

i miss you.

we were young.

you were the only reason for the state i was in. you were the only reason for that state of mind, state of being. now that you're not an option anymore, i want out.

we were young.

my skin is crawling. shivers shoot down my spine and slowly work their way back up. withdrawal symptoms?

most amazing moments in life: this is my list so far:

- sitting on the floor of the shower, under the hot water, until it runs out
- holding hands
- barefoot on grass
- body heat in winter
- the build-up to a kiss

i think that's it so far. i can't think of any other things as cool as those, and as timeless.

it's midnight, i'm listening to jack johnson, and i need to sleep, but i can't, because when i do, i dream. i thought it had stopped, but i was only relieved from this torture - in the form of unbearably lucid dreams - for a few nights. they're back, and i can't handle the way my heart drops when i wake up and realise nothing ever really happened.

it's like waking up on the wrong side of the bed every single morning. it's like waking up to this immense disappointment that tightens my heated heart until i physically feel it pump frantically, oxygen-deprived.

i'm like seventeen and i'm going to die of heart failure.


this is everything.

phoneless, loveless, moneyless.

self-restriction has got to be hands-down the most difficult thing to orchestrate successfully, because there are so many things to sway you off your path of self-preservation and onto one of self-destruction. it's uncanny, really. it blows my mind.

i keep typing a sentence, and then backspacing and restarting. i kinda wish i could do that in real life, it would be of so much help.

she is so beautiful. her hair cascades over her shoulder and down her back, and timidly tucks in behind her ears. her eyes are always emphasized by a delicate glint, and she is almost impossible not to look at. she is effervescent, she is whimsical. she could be something.

but my vision is clouded by a haze the shape, size and colour of you.


fairly tepid.

i sit here and i feel miniscule drops of perspiration form on my skin. i am covered, head to toe, in a thin film of sweat, and it is driving me a little insane. my arms rest on the desk and, after a few seconds, they begin to slide as a result of the moisture.

i hate summer.

i am supposed to be writing my essay; it's due tomorrow. i have started and restarted it, but i just can't find anything to write about. no inspiration. i don't want to write about insomnia, everybody knows what happens when you can't sleep. i think i should write about the night dancing. she could be night, she could dance.

i think i just found inspiration.

aaand i think the bell is going to ring now, the gay bell at this gay school, we're not even allowed to put our bags in the hallways. it's a fucking school, FFS. there are bound to be bags strewn all over the place.


i like holding hands, in the alleyway

my eyes are burning and my hair is pulling my head down and my throat is raw and i feel as if my brain matter is made up entirely of cotton wool.

yeaaah man!

what a lovely fucking day it is today. i hate you. i love my friends, i love franchesca, i miss sitting next to her in biology.

that's her and i, we're married and she's the worst wife ever but i'm not exactly setting a good example for her either. we officially have the most dysfunctional marriage. we swing, we sway :)

i'm going to be alone all day long today, i'm probably going to end up spending it with ted and lily and barney and robin and marshall. and then watch some greys anatomy.

i really want to sucker punch her today, when she says my name its like i itch to flee in the opposite direction.

your facade is pointless, i can see straight through it. i know you're talking shit. i know what i am to you but i can't stop.



it's school today, and it sucks. at least the heat isn't as bothersome as last week. it's a little easier to handle today, not utterly unbearable.

i have finally come up with a word for that thing i needed to describe: compelling. how perfect is that? it blows my mind how one word can sum up so much.

so, i'm obsessed with this new band, called LA.VI, it's amazing and the lead singer is beautiful, she has this amazing voice that rips through your soul and tears at your skin and floods through your entire being and when she's done, it rings out in your mind. i wish i could make people feel like that, feel the way i felt when she closed her eyes, slowly inched towards the microphone and opened her mouth. it was like i could see the aesthetic pouring from her lips.

i have a biology test in about an hour or so, and 1000 sums for maths class in about 30 minutes, and i have not opened a book for either. i should be doing something about that right now, but blogging seems to be more of a priority at the moment. i write to escape insanity, so it's a good cause. right?

it's strange how i never get used to what you look like, to your facial expressions.

it pretty much sucks not to be able to write whatever i want to write.

i want to be that. i like the way the keys feel under my fingers, i like the noise they make when i touch them, it almost puts me to sleep. lately, everything puts me to sleep.

playlist for today:
re: stacks
skinny love
- bon iver
- bon iver & st vincent
the girl
sleeping sickness
the death of me
- city & colour
 - phoenix
skeleton (acoustic) 
- yeah yeah yeahs
cold fame
- band of skulls
after the storm
white blank page
the cave
- mumford & sons
roll away your stone (mumford & sons cover)
- laura marling

these here are my desires, and i won't give them up to you this time around.